


Tristesse

by Niullum



Series: L'appel du vide [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bruce Wayne Tries to Be a Good Parent, Depression, Gen, He gets one but he needs therapy tbh, Mental Health Issues, No beta we die like Tim's mental health, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Tim Drake is Not Okay, aftermath of a suicide attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:54:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27830056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niullum/pseuds/Niullum
Summary: The family tries to deal with the aftermath of Tim's suicide attempt.A continuation ofL'appel du vide
Relationships: Batfamily Members & Tim Drake, Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne
Series: L'appel du vide [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2036629
Comments: 26
Kudos: 274





	Tristesse

**Author's Note:**

> hi, hello. Sorry for the absence so much college and RL is kicking my butt. I haven't been able to reply to all of your wonderful comments but please know I love and cherish every one of them. This is sadly un-betaed so all mistakes are mine.

_“I’m okay,” is the first thing that comes out of Tim’s mouth when he hears the familiar sound of grapple cutting through the air and the footsteps coming towards their way. He raises his head and peeks from Jason’s shoulder only to flinch when he finds himself facing Bruce who’s watching him with an indescribable expression._

_The worst part is that Bruce isn’t alone. A small tremor goes through him when he catches sight of Nightwing and Robin who aren’t too far from Bruce. Something like panic bubbles inside him at the thought of how all of this will play out._

_More specifically how the rest are going to react. It’s nerve-wracking having to be there and wait for them to start asking questions. Especially since he doesn’t know what exactly Oracle told them. And he wishes, for a brief moment, that he had planned this better. Perhaps if Tim had been a bit smarter he could have-_

_As if knowing what Tim is thinking Jason grips his shoulder. Strangely the pressure helps. It grounds him just enough for him to break eye contact with Bruce and look at Jason instead. The look Jason gives him is far better than the expressionless face Bruce’s cowl gives._

_“Red Hood,” Batman starts taking a step forward and Tim flinches, even more, when he realizes Bruce’s not going to be addressing him. It should anger him—he’s not a child, to the eyes of the law he’s an adult—but the reality is that this proves how pissed (worried, some part of his mind corrects) Bruce must be._

_“I called as soon as I could,” Jason replies at the same time Tim says “I’m okay”._

_Silence._

_“Drake,” Damian starts and if Tim closes his eyes he can almost picture the sneer on his face. Knowing Damian, he’s probably pissed he got interrupted during patrol._

_“What happened?” Nightwing says, his voice laced with worry. Except that for some reason Tim begins to feel strange._

_Something is wrong._

_“Red Robin?”_

Tim wakes up confused and with the faintest traces of a headache. He looks up and a white ceiling stares back at him. He blinks and takes a deep breath as he takes his surroundings. For some strange reason the room he is in looks very familiar. He frowns. Almost too familiar for his tastes, but he can’t grasp _why_ exactly.

Tim drops his head against the pillow with a groan, ready to sleep some more. As he’s about to close his eyes a flash of memories passes through his mind.

The memories hit him two seconds later, and Tim suddenly _remembers_ what happened. He opens his eyes wide awake as a strong feeling of _panic_ blossoms inside him. Tim props himself up with all the means to leave but a hand placed on his chest stops him at the last minute. He turns around, confusion all over his face, and finds himself looking at a figure looming over him.

“Calm down. You’re safe,” a voice says next to him with all intentions of pacifying him but it does the opposite. It startles him. _Who are you?_ Tim wants to ask, ready to deck the stranger in the face. He opens his mouth ready to start asking questions when the voice speaks again. “Your name is Tim Drake-Wayne.”

Tim _stills_ on the spot _._

“You’re sixteen years old and in a few more months you’ll finally turn seventeen. You’re in the manor,” a pause before the last part is added quieter, “surrounded by your family.”

“Bruce?” Tim asks softly, finally recognizing his voice. He squints and there is Bruce, looking a bit worn out than usual, almost as if he had just aged one more decade overnight.

“Easy chum,” Bruce coaxes him back to bed until his head hits the pillow again and begins stroking his hair. Tim blinks, momentarily stupefied by the gesture. He doesn’t remember Bruce being this affectionate with him before. The _“why are you doing this”_ sits on the tip of his tongue.

“Alfred told us you could be disoriented when you woke up,” Bruce smiles but there’s a pinch of sadness in his smile that tugs Tim’s heart, “we got worried for a second. How are you feeling?”

“A bit tired,” Tim replies.

“I can imagine,” Bruce says with a chuckle, continuing petting him. It’s soothing in a way, having his hair pet. Tim doesn’t remember the last time his dad did this with him. A few years probably when he was little. Pretty sure Mom has a picture, somewhere in the house.

“Something on your mind?” Bruce asks, bringing him back to reality. Tim looks down and shrugs, trying his hardest to ignore the guilt that weighs on him heavily. So Tim ends up saying the only thing he can think of, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” another voice speaks softly, startling him. It’s no other than Dick who’s leaning against the door and offers him a smile _(that seems too tight and painful for it to be natural anyway)._ It looks _wrong_. Dick only gives that sort of smile when there’s someone to be comforted involved. “We’re glad you’re okay.”

“I’m fine, I guess,” he says to then wince out of the sheer absurdity of him saying that because _nothing (absolutely nothing)_ of this situation is even close to the word fine.

“I’m glad,” Bruce replies after a hum. Tim bites his lips, waiting for Bruce or Dick to say something—to finally address the elephant in the room— _but_ they both remain quiet. _Distant, Tim_ realizes with dread. In all the years he’d met Bruce and Dick they had never acted like this as if Tim’s could break in any given minute.

It’s none other than him who decides to break it when he can’t handle it anymore.

“How’s Damian?” Tim ends up asking only to realize two seconds later, how _dumb_ it sounds.

“He’s good,” Dick replies carefully, half-absent and sits on the edge of the bed, “he was with Jason.”

“And Jason?”

“Left a while ago,” Bruce replies. “He was worried about you too.”

“Tell him not to worry,” Tim says with a wave of his hands, without thinking twice. “I’m fine.”

The uncomfortable pause that follows makes him duck his head.

“Tim,” Dick starts gently, glancing at Bruce before locking eyes with him. His heart begins to race while Tim anxiously awaits, “I think we need to talk.”

“About what?” Tim asks far too quickly, feeling as if his heart is about to burst out.

Dick hesitates before Bruce clears his throat.

“We’re worried about you Tim," Bruce starts slowly, in his ( _probably, knowing how Bruce works_ ) rehearsed speech. “We’ve noticed recently that your behavior has changed-”

“You don’t have to worry,” he says quietly, looking down. The hand on his hair stops and Tim takes a deep breath.

“What do you mean?” Bruce asks, clearly taken back. “Tim?”

Tim doesn’t reply.

“Come on Tim,” Dick pleads, coming closer and touching his shoulder,“ talk to us, please?”

“I said you don’t have to worry,” is the reply that leaves his mouth. Judging by the almost imperceptible hand twitch from Bruce it’s not what he had been hoping for. “I’m emancipated. I’m not your problem anymore.”

He glances up and fakes a smile.

“Everything is under control,” and for good measure, he adds, “what happened yesterday won’t happen again. I can assure you.”

“What if I want to care about you?” Bruce asks after a while looking at him strangely. “Love is not an obligation son.”

”I’m not your son,” Tim says, shaking his head. The words come out barely as a whisper. “I never was.”

“Oh Tim, chum,” is the heartbroken reply that for some strange reason makes his eyes prickle with tears when he’s engulfed in two strong arms that hold him. The lump on his throat chokes him as he struggles to stifle his tears. Out of all the possible reactions, Tim had been hoping Bruce (mad, annoyed, uninterested) being _sad_ is not one of them.

He’d never imagined Bruce hugging him. It had always been out of the equation. Even less when he feels a hand rubbing his back.

“How long have you been thinking this way?”

“I-” he can’t say it. He doesn’t want to hear the hurt in Bruce’s eyes or-

“Answer the question Baby Bird,” Dick says, “it's okay.”

“Four months,” the sharp intake of air is the only sign he needs to know he messed up. He backtracks, _“_ It’s okay” Tim reassures him but his words fall to deaf ears. “ _I’m fine._ ”

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I had it under control,” Tim says, swallowing past the lump in his throat. “it was never this bad. I’m still functional. I can still patrol and work! Yesterday was...,” he trails off and his eyes briefly cloud for a moment. He scrambles for a reply “was a moment of weakness I guess but I can still _work_ -”

“Tim,” Dick cuts him off as gently as possible. “You were going to throw yourself off the building last night,” he flinches at the words and by the choked up tone Dick has, Tim knows it hurts him too. “If Jason hadn’t been there if he had arrived only one second later you could have…”

 _Died_.

“Tim, can you look at me?”

It takes a while to gather the strength to look up.

“I know it’s hard to believe right now but we love you, Tim. You’re part of the family,” Bruce said, rubbing his back. “We're going to help you, Tim, let us help you.”

A beat before Tim replies.

“But that’s the thing Bruce,” Tim says but it’s a struggle getting the words out because they hurt. He knows it hurt but he’s too tired to care, “I don’t know if I want to be helped.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading and I hope you have a good day. I don't know how active I'll be during December but I think in January things will calm down for a bit.


End file.
